The Times
by FantasticallyFanatical
Summary: A collection of Jess/Nick one-shots concerning the life and times of Jess and Nick. Probably everyone else, too. Ratings will vary.
1. The time Jess got drunk

"Schmidt?" Nick turns to see a Schmidt-shaped object shuffling towards the door. "Schmidt don't you dare leave me to take care of this on my own!"

The fast speech and the slight growl in Nick's voice have no impact and all he hears is the front door slamming and Schmidt's feet running towards the lift.

"Winston?"

"Gotta dash," comes a muffled response as Winston tugs on a jacket, grabs his phone and makes for the door but this time Nick is ready and stands in front of the door, facing the wood with his arms spread as far as they can go. "Nick, stop star-fishing me."

Nick decides that this is his only option so remains in the position he is, stretching his arms out even wider and making his legs match the movement. There is no way he's dealing with this on his own. "You're staying here, Winston. Yes, you are."

"Nick, without infringing on our friendship, I would delicately like to point out that remaining in that position opens you to one _very painful _point of compromise and just so you know, I _will_ use it."

It takes Nick three seconds to realise what Winston means and quickly clamps his legs together, leaving his arms across the door. "You're still not leaving," Nick informs Winston but Winston has a few more tricks up his sleeves and a few sharp pokes in Nick's ribs loosen him up enough for Winston to slip out the door and get in the lift before Nick has time to recover.

Groaning, Nick slips to the floor and lets his head lull forwards so his chin rests on his chest. "What did I do in this life to deserve this?" he mumbles to himself, "So I hate a few people but _this_? I don't deserve this!"

His whisper becomes more vocal and it stirs the previously sleeping being on his bed. "Niiiiiiiick?"

Nick doesn't move at first and then attempts to crawl, ever so slowly, towards Schmidt's room. "You can do this Nick," he whispers to himself, placing each palm down with quiet caution. "You _have_ to do this."

He doesn't do it. At least not before a towering shadow engulfs him and he's suddenly face to face with another crawling being. A crawling being with two bright blue eyes. "Are you being a cat?" Her look is quizzical but as she attempts to study his face, her eyes lose focus.

"Are _you_ being a cat Jess?" Nick asks, glancing over her head at the distance to Schmidt's room. He could still make it.

"No," she says, stumbling to her feet. "Where is Schmidt?"

"I don't know, Jess. Hey, here's an idea – I'll go find him and you just stay here." Perfect, Nick grins and gets to his feet, diving towards the door but Jess second guesses him and latches onto his arm before his other hand reaches the handle. He sighs; like it or lump it, tonight he's the one on drunk-Jess duty.

"Don't leave meeee," she slurs, gripping on tighter to his arm and resting her head on the top of his arm. "Winston always leaves me; I don't want to be left in the loft Nick."

In between her tight, vice-like grip on his arm and the memories of the last time they left her alone in the loft, Nick sighs and realises there's no way he can get out of this.

"Why am I always on Jess duty?" he asks himself more than anyone as he slips an arm around the base of her back and directs her to the couch. He deposits her down and she giggles she the back of her head hits the top soft material beneath, her arms still entangled with his which results in pulling Nick down onto the sofa too.

"Because you're strong Nick Miller," she informs him, without pausing between the strong and the Nick making it sound like he's actually called strong Nick Miller. There are worst things to be called, he muses. "And you do great turtle faces which is really handy."

"How on Earth did you get this drunk Jess?" Nick sighs again but there's a fond smile forming at the corners of his mouth. Jess is too busy putting the heels of her hands in her eyes to notice. All he manages to decipher is Cece, shots and strip ping pong. That explains why her skirt's on back to front, then. "Want some water?"

Jess shakes her head softly and her hair begins to fall out of the poorly constructed bun she's shoved her hair into. "No, I don't want your daughter," she murmurs as she tucks her legs up under her body and her head manages to find its way to his lap. He's about to protest but she stills and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and the words Nick planned to say seem to disappear from his mind.

He tries to exhale and air his annoyance but as the breath leaves his mouth it sounds more like a contented sigh. He reaches for the remote and flicks from channel to channel, feeling her head shake on his thighs until she finds something she's happy to watch. Thankfully it's not _Fame._

It's a documentary on penguins and Nick decides he can stomach this for the next twenty minutes because he knows from (too much) experience that Jess doesn't take too long to crash out completely. As the TV soothes the two of them into a state of calm as they watch the birds glide over the ice and enter pools of water with a plop, Nick finds his fingers idly stroking Jess' hair down her head and over the top of her shoulder. He can't see her head from the way she's lying on his lap and facing the TV but she makes no effort to stop his ministrations.

"Jess?" he voices quietly, wondering if the time has come again for him to carry her to bed. Which, Nick would have you know, is harder than it looks: Jess is nothing if a wriggler. There's no reply and he steels himself ready for the struggle when she shifts her head around on his lap causing a certain amount of friction – an action that's both welcomed and unwanted simultaneously.

"I want a pet penguin," she informs Nick softly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Called Sid."

"Called Sid?" Nick chuckles and he realises that in the last few minutes he's stopped stroking her hair and instead his hand has been resting comfortably in the crook of her neck. He hesitates moving it but an itch on his face a few minutes later makes the decision for him and he can tell from the constant, regular breathing from Jess that she's finally crashed. Ignoring his (questionable) desire to place his hand back there and with a lot of effort he hoists Jess into his arms and carries her in an awkward fashion to her room. He's just finishes lowering her to the mattress and is making for the door when a mumble emerges from a face-down Jess.

He doesn't catch what she's said so he perches on the side of her bed in an attempt to hear her but that movement alone seems to settle her. He knows the stick he's going to get for being roped into babysitting her all night but since the other two weren't manly enough to stick it out, Nick gets up, closes the door and sits back down on her bed. What they don't know won't hurt them. And what they _do_ know? That it's up to one of them to be on Jess-duty next time. Ha.

As she hums what sounds like a Christmas carol under her breath, Nick finds his eyes starting to tire and before he knows it, he's laying fast asleep flat on his back and dreaming of tinsel and presents.

He wakes up long before Jess does and takes this opportunity to sneak back into his own bed (mostly because he can't stand hearing her alarm of _Walking on Sunshine_ through his wall let alone hearing it next to his head.) But before he leaves, he takes a longer than necessary look at her all curled up and out for the count and a smile creeps onto his face without his knowing. Yeah, she's a drunken pain in the ass but his life is definitely better for having her in it.

He sneaks into his own bed without Schmidt or Winston realising, if they're even home yet and takes copious amounts of delight in making a mental note to remind the two of them that he's done his Jess duty for this month; it's their turn next.

But as he drifts back to sleep in the comfort of his own bed, Nick finds himself realising that he wouldn't mind _too_ much being on Jess duty again. Not that he's ever going to tell Winston or Schmidt that.


	2. The time Jess and Nick shared a bed

The Time Jess and Nick shared a bed:

"What?" comes a grumbled response from Nick's face in his pillow as he hears his door open.

"I can't sleep," Jess whines, her bottom lip pouting (not that Nick can see. It's not even for a reaction, it's instinctive.)

"And?" Why, of all their bedrooms, does Jess always insist of coming into his?

"Sing me to sleep," she demands, folding her arms across her pyjama-ridden chest. Nick moans into his pillow and hopes she'll get the message and go away. She doesn't.

"I'm not singing to you, Jess. I'm sleeping."

"No you're not, you're talking." She has a point. Nick _wishes_ he were sleeping. Still she doesn't get the hint. So he does all he can think of.

"Get in." When she doesn't answer, he shifts along in his bed and repeats himself. "Get in or go away. Your choice."

It doesn't seem like much of a choice to Jess but she sighs and clambers in beside Nick, smelling of nail varnish remover and hint of vanilla. He tries to frown as if communicating his displeasure at this turn of events but the smell is too pleasant and let's face it, who prefers sleeping alone anyway?

"Your side, my side." Nick draws an imaginary line between them, looking up from his pillow for the first time to see a wide-eyed Jess tucked under his duvet right up under her chin. She nods ferociously and Nick settles back down, turning onto his side so only his back faces Jess. She remains flat on her back with covers up to her neck and she just stares at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep.

"Thank you Nick" are the last few words she whispers before Nick falls fast asleep. Jess follows thirty eight minutes later.

When he wakes up the next morning, Nick is aware of two things. One, he's not alone in this bed. Two, he's pretty sure his foot is somewhere it's not supposed to be. Rubbing his eyes as gently as he can, he turns his neck to the side and sees the back of a female head, complete with dark curls and a loosely hanging hair band. Definitely not Caroline then.

He scratches the back of his head and tests the smell of his breath. Not minty fresh by any standard but no traces of alcohol either. And then as he gets a soft smell of vanilla, he remembers who's in his bed. And that makes him even more worried about his foot.

Nick quickly extracts his body from the equation and leaves Jess sleeping in his bed and drags his feet towards the kitchen for coffee. He notices Jess' door is wide open before he sees Schmidt and Winston are already up and doesn't have time to think before he blurts out everything.

"It's not what it looks like!" Nick realises, the minute he's finished talking, that neither Schmidt nor Winston thought it looked like anything. They weren't even vaguely aware there was anything to look like something else. Well done, Miller.

"What's not?" Schmidt questions as Winston decides it's far too early for this and grabs his coffee before heading back to bed, giving Nick a you're-loosing-it-buddy type pat on the back. Schmidt's eyes widen as he looks from Nick to Jess' empty room. "Where's Jess? Nick, where's Jess?"

"In my room," Nick announces, clamping his hands over his mouth and hitting his head against the fridge moments after. He really needs to work on his secret-keeping. Not that this was even a secret.

"You and Jess?" Schmidt's face looks conflicted with confusion, glee and little bit of misplaced pride. "Oooh, this is good."

"No," Nick shakes his head but he has a feeling he's already lost Schmidt.

"Wait till I tell Cece – we had bets about this."

"Schmidt, no." He's still not listening.

"Hey, Winston!"

"Schmidt, no! We just slept in the same bed. Separate sides," Nick demonstrates with his entire arm to emphasise the separation. "Very separate sides."

Schmidt is silenced for a second but raises an eyebrow that suggests he doesn't really buy it. Nick looks relieved that Schmidt's dropped the topic and sinks onto the couch, coffee in hand.

"I still say it happened," Schmidt can't help but add his opinion.

"Schmidt!" Nick silences him again and he finally takes the hint, grabbing his phone and heading to the bathroom. Nick doesn't even ask – he definitely doesn't need to know the reasons behind Schmidt's behaviour. Sharing a bed with Jess has already shown him more than enough off one of his flatmates for this week.

Now to go about washing that foot.


	3. The time Jess got scared

**A/N: **Just a quick note to thank everyone for the reviews, follows, alerts and whatnot - it truly is appreciated. I don't know exactly where I'm going with these one-shots but as long as ideas keep creeping up on me, I'll keep churning them out!

* * *

**The Time Jess Got Scared.**

"You're up late," Nick speaks quietly as he creeps into the loft, checking his watch as if to validate his statement.

"Touché, my friend," Jess replies, her eyes looking particularly tired beneath her glasses. She looks up from the book she's reading and pushes her glasses up against her eyes as Nick collapses heavily on the couch beside her.

"Winston-" Nick begins, craning his head round the loft to see signs of life.

"In bed," Jess interrupts him and adds, "Schmidt's there too. With Cece."

It's only when Nick's eyes widen that she realises what she's said and she quickly corrects herself with a childish giggle but Nick merely raises an eyebrow and then frowns, shooting a look towards Schmidt's door. He wouldn't put it past him.

"How comes you didn't go after Cece?" Jess asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence. She fingers the pages of her book as she awaits his answer though she appears to be somewhat disinterested in his actual reply.

"Not my type," he shrugs and it only now occurs to him that he really didn't attempt to go after Cece at all. He thinks about this for longer than he realises and as he looks up to see Jess, he's faced with a bemused smile and eyes that look even more tired than ten minutes ago. "What?" he challenges her and now Jess shrugs, turning her attention back to her book.

"Cece's everyone's type," she frowns, as if this information is hard for her to digest. Nick wants to laugh (mostly because it's damn near 2am and he's tired and that last shift seemed to go on for_ever_.)

"Jess, that's impossible." Nick can think of plenty of reasons why it's impossible but his brain switched off over half an hour ago and is refusing to fight a battle that barely needs winning. He sighs, checks the time again and since he's not getting much of a reaction out of her, decides he'll hit the sack. "I'm going to bed, Jess. If you know what's good for you, you'll do the same."

She disregards his advice with a low hum, flicking the next page of her book. Nick exhales again, gets to his feet and goes to bed. Jess barely even notices he's gone until his door shuts. "Goodnight Nick," she smiles to herself before mimicking Nick and saying good night to herself. She peels off into silent laughter and curls up into a tighter ball on the couch. Ten more minutes pass and Nick's internally cursing his own bladder for being so weak at such inappropriate times. He reluctantly drags himself out of bed and to the bathroom, stopping in the living area on his way back to bed.

"Jess," he's sounding slightly exasperated, though why her lack of sleep should in any way affect his own sleep is unbeknown to Nick. "Why aren't you going to bed?"

Asking was never going to be a good idea.

"Um, well there's this spider and he's kind of vacationing in my room." Nick's bemused to say the least and this is just the start. "So I had a word with him about leaving early, you know checking out Mr Kelly's down the hall."

"But?" Nick can barely believe he's asking.

"He wasn't sold. So I'm camping out here for the time being. Cosy, isn't it?" She tilts her head to the make-shift ambience she's created with battery powered fairy lights in the shape of butterflies. How he didn't notice these earlier is beyond him.

"Are you scared of spiders?" Nick asks, narrowing his eyes and placing his hands on his hips. Facts like this are not easily digested at 2:37am.

"No!" Jess scoffs, shaking her head and pursing her lips in what she hopes looks like a protest against being scared of anything. Nick doesn't believe it for a second but is slightly shocked to find her current look somewhat more attractive than usual. It's definitely too late for this, Nick mentally nods. Far too late.

"So if I went and got this spider-"

"Benji," Jess interjects.

"What?"

"He's named Benji" Jess confirms and Nick decides for once to just roll with her craziness. It's so much easier.

"If I went and got," he pauses as if the next word feels unusual on his tongue, "Benji and brought him out here?"

"Hmm, I don't think he'd like it. The butterflies," she nods knowingly and Nick starts to wonder whether this whole conversation is just one big nightmare. He pinches his own arm just to check. Nope, still awake.

"But you'd be fine with it?" He's going to get her to admit she's scared. And then he'll (finally) go to bed. A grin spreads on his face as he edges towards her room and a look of panic spreading to fear takes over Jess' face. Oh she's scared alright. "Ha!" Nick crows and runs into Jess' room in search of the spider. But as he does so, Jess makes a beeline for his room, shutting the door behind her and after dragging his bed sheets to the floor, sets up camp against the inside of his door. There's no way Nick's bringing Benji in here. (Sorry, Benji.)

Nick quickly realises, when he hears his door slam, that this move has not worked to his advantage. Not only is he tired (and getting more and more tired by the minute), he also has no access to his own bed and will no doubt have to suffer a sleep-deprived Winston in the morning. He'll blame Jess, Nick decides as Benji just creeps into view. He sighs, admits defeat and captures the creature, chucking him (with the best intentions) out of Jess' window. He's got enough legs that Nick's sure Benji will land on at least one of them.

"Jess?" Nick calls through his own door and Jess stills, pretending she's not on the other side. "Benji's found a new place to vacation so can I _please_ get back in my own bed?"

"Where?" comes her muffled response from her position lying embroiled in Nick's duvet. He doesn't understand what she's asking and at 3:01am, he's definitely too tired to care.

"He developed a taste for the great outdoors, Jess." It's half true, Nick decides and nearly weeps with delight with his door opens just a fraction.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Nick replies genuinely, not entirely sure whether he's promising the safety and change in opinion of Benji or the fact that Benji is no longer posing a threat to Jess' bedroom. Either way, he's not lying and she seems to be able to read it on his face because she hands him back his bedding and trundles into her own room.

Bemused, confused and so very, very tired, Nick finally climbs into bed and adds spider-catcher to his list of things he's started doing for Jess. He falls fast asleep before he questions how and why this list is growing and more importantly, why he doesn't have a problem with it.


	4. The time Jess used Chat Roulette

A/N: Again, thanks for all the reviews – you're keeping me fuelled with inspiration! I own nothing as always. This is pretty short, sorry guys! And it has a definite T Rating for numerous uses of the word penis. You have been warned.

* * *

The Time Jess Used Chat Roulette.

"Umm, Nick?" Jess' voice floats from her bedroom into the kitchen where Nick avidly tries to ignore her at first.

"What, Jess?"

"Some guy keeps showing me his peen."

Nick sighs, switches off the TV and reluctantly makes his way into Jess' room where she's sat cross legged on her bed, both hands clamped horizontally over her eyes.

"I thought we'd got over the penis hurdle," Nick comments but Jess just shakes her head frantically, taking one hand off her eyes and pointing to the screen. _Now_ Nick understands what she's talking about. "Oh. _Wow._ Turn it off Jess, turn it off! My eyes are bleeding, my eyes are _bleeding!"_

"You turn it off!"

"Jess, it's your laptop!"

"So? I clean up _your_ mess Miller!" Unable to come up with another retort, Nick lets out a guttural scream and closes the lid on Jess' laptop. Silence descends until Jess begins to giggle and remove her hands from her eyes. Nick's staring at the laptop as if it's possessed which only serves to make Jess laugh more.

"What on earth was _that_?" Nick finally manages to muster some sort of sentence and Jess shrugs, twirling a piece of hair around her index finger.

"I just wanted to talk to people," she claims but Nick raises a sceptical eyebrow.

"But you wound up talking to penises?"

"Nick!" Nick finally laughs because Jess still seems so offended by the word. "It's called chat roulette. It's meant to be fun."

She has this little pout on her face when things aren't as fun as she imagines they're going to be, like the time she tried to stroke Mrs Pattenburg's dog, but ended up with a urine-covered dress. Or the time she dragged Nick along to a yoga class. That little escapade caused pouts all around.

"Chat roulette?" Nick questions, trying not to stare at the way her lips are poised as she continues to pout. _Think of the penis. Think of the penis. _

"Cece did warn me that some people were," she pauses, trying to find the right word. Nick can think a fair few but refrains from supplying them. They're not for delicate ladies to hear. "Strange," Jess settles for. "I didn't know they'd be _that_ strange."

She pouts again and Nick needs to get that pout off her face so he can get it out of his mind. And he hates how she can have this effect on him because one, she's his flatmate and he definitely doesn't fancy her. He just thinks about her almost all the time he's awake. And two, because he ends up doing things he really would rather not being doing.

Things like this.

"I'm sure they're not all strange Jess." He tries a comforting smile but upon catching his reflection in one of her many mirrors, he stops and just opens her laptop. "Let's give it another go."

Jess eyes him warily but as he sits patiently and waits, her eagerness begins to rise and she nods happily.

"I draw the line at penises though," he forewarns her but he faces no reluctance from Jess. She's seen more than enough already. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

"Penis! Penis, PENIS," Nick shouts, "Next! Next one, Jess."

"I'm clicking, I'm clicking!" Jess savagely attacks her keyboard so that the current image disappears and a new one takes its place. Out of the last ten attempts, only two have been what Nick and Jess would classify as normal people. This next one makes it two out of eleven. They both crane their head into the screen, eyebrows raised. "Is that..?"

"Er Jess, what is that?"

"I _think_ it's a cat. At the computer." Jess stares at Nick who, after an hour of this madness, has finally seen enough, cracks and collapses flat on her bed in a fit of laughter. "Bye kitty," she waves as she exits the internet. She puts her laptop on the floor and lies down on the bed next to Nick. Her hair is loose and it tickles his arm as it touches his skin and he closes his eyes trying to imagine what it would feel like to let his fingers get lost in there. He clenches his fists unconsciously and Jess places a soft hand over his tightly packed fist which jerks his eyes wide open.

"Not a penis," Jess confirms as if Nick might mistake her hand for one. She chuckles as Nick stares at their hands, completely unaware of the impact she's having on him. She pats his fist which finally starts to relax and makes her way into the kitchen. "Sausage sandwich, Nick?"

Nick let's his head fall back again and smiles. She _has_ to be doing this on purpose: a sausage sandwich after the day they've just had?

"I think I'll pass, Jess."


	5. The time Jess was sad

A/N: Thanks, as always, to those who reviewed and favourited and followed and so on, and thanks to anyone who just read it too – it's such a buzz hearing from people. I have to admit I'm not wholly comfortable with the ending of this one, I wrote and re-wrote this so many times with different endings and this is kind of the best of a bad bunch. Also, the title of this is horrendously cringeworthy - I swear the idea behind it is better!

* * *

The Time Jess Was Sad.

Nick comes home and finds the flat completely silent – he knows from experience that's never a good sign. There's a note of the counter top from Schmidt with the words _'Tread carefully_' scribbled on it and Nick naturally assumes Cece's round. Again. He dumps his work bag in his room and makes his way to Schmidt's banging hard but with no reply.

"Schmidt?" he calls through the door but no sign of life appears. Nick shrugs, crumples up the piece of paper and aims for the bin. He gets it in and grabs a cool beer from the fridge as a reward, embarking on what he likes to name his victory dance. When not one person comes in and interrupts his (questionable) dancing, Nick knows there's something very wrong. Winston would _never_ allow him to dance like that for this amount of time.

He mooches around the apartment, searching the bathroom and then knocking on Schmidt's door but again with no answer. Finally he reaches Jess' room and knocks twice but again no answer. He places his ear to the door and from inside can hear what he thinks is the sound of a dog whimpering.

"Please don't let that be a dog," Nick pleads under his breath before knocking again and calling Jess' name through the wood. "Jess? You in there?"

There's no answer but Nick hears a soft shuffle towards the door and as it opens just a fraction, he comes face to face with a red-eyed tear-stained Jess. It knocks Nick for six and for a second or three, he just stands and stares and Jess' eyes begin to water again and then it's like common sense finally returns. Careful not to spill the beer, he pulls Jess in for a tight embrace and he feels her visibly collapse against his body. His arms scoop round further and he rests his head on the top of hers. He's not entirely sure whether what he's doing is helping, but it's all he's got to offer.

Her body seems to gently convulse against his and he can feel a patch of moisture forming on his chest. He wants to ask her what's wrong, wants to ask when he's meant stop hugging her but Jess seems in no fit state to speak. Nick scans her bedroom for a hint, a suggestion, any little thing that will help him to gauge the situation but he's just faced with an extensive amount of floral items and several cardigans sprawled on the floor.

"Hey Jess?" His voice is quiet and tender and he almost doesn't recognise it as his own. "Let's get you a drink, come on."

Keeping one arm around her waist, he directs her to couch and puts her down, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. He busies himself in the kitchen, depositing his beer on the side and setting about making Jess a cup of tea. In the reflection of the toaster he can see Jess dabbing at her face and rearranging her hair into a messy concoction on top of her head. The kettle boils and it makes her jump and Jess emits this little giggle which makes Nick smile as he finishes making her tea. Grabbing his beer as he goes, he sits down beside Jess and hands her tea which she takes gratefully.

"Thank you," she finally speaks and her voice is a little lower and more hoarse than usual. Nick screws his face up as if it's nothing but Jess nuzzles against his body, as if thanking him again. He doesn't recoil from her, just lets Jess get comfortable and then places his arm over her shoulders, trying to make her feel as safe and secure as he possibly can. It seems to work (or at least the tea does) because Jess doesn't cry anymore but she remains quiet and subdued.

"The tea okay?" he asks, more to make light conversation than anything. She shows him the empty cup with a soft smile and he nods, smiling back. "Nick Miller: expert tea maker."

"I didn't say you were an expert," Jess clarifies and it's the first playful comment she's made.

"But it was pretty great tea, right?" Nick tests the water, teasing her a little bit as he usually would do and she seems appreciative of a bit of normality.

"Not bad," she smiles, placing the cup on the little table and rearranging herself on the sofa, legs folded under her and her hands anxiously playing with the tips of her nails.

"You gonna tell me what's with the tears?" He jumps straight in and she stares at him for a beat but Nick simply looks at her with honest eyes and waits.

"No," she says slowly, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Fine by me," Nick nods and she's not 100% sure but she thinks he sounds genuine. And he is – he doesn't mind if she tells him or not, he just wants to make sure she's okay. There's a comfortable silence that follows and Nick takes this opportunity to finish the rest of his beer and place the empty bottle in her empty tea cup with a clink.

"How was work?" Jess asks, evidently uncomfortable with the silence. Nick looks surprised that she's talking and even more surprised she's asking about the mundane Monday he's had.

"Pretty empty," Nick replies and he mentally curses himself for not inventing more of a story just to keep Jess occupied. "I only dropped two glasses today," he adds which makes Jess smile.

"New record?" Her voice sounds the brightest it has all day but it's still lower and more solemn than usual.

"New record," Nick affirms with a thumbs up. Jess mimics his action and then takes her upturned thumb and taps Nick on the nose with it.

"Thanks Nick," she smiles, taking the cup and the beer bottle in the kitchen and disposing of them in their rightful places. She gives him a little wave as she re-enters her bedroom, grabs her towel and heads to the bathroom.

"Any time," Nick adds as a quiet afterthought, still utterly bemused about the whole thing.

* * *

Nick cooks himself Bolognese and saves enough for Jess just in case she doesn't fancy cooking anything. He knocks softly on her door but there's no answer. He squeezes his eyes shut hoping she's not crying again and enters, carrying the leftover food on the plate. She doesn't register his movements and as he places the tray down, he finds Jess curled up on top of her bed, fast asleep. She's surrounded by pictures and scraps of paper and he can't really piece it all together. There's a fairly aged man in a few of the photos, with a broad grin and thick glasses but surprisingly a full head of hair. Nick wonders if he has anything to do with Jess' current state but he sees no family resemblance in the slightest. Nick scoops them all up and puts them on a pile out the way so they don't get ruined and smiles as Jess rolls over in her sleep, eyes opening wearily as she becomes aware of a figure by her bed.

"I brought you dinner," Nick bends down and places the tray on top of Jess' lap. It's a nice gesture just slight mistimed, but Jess accepts it all the same. "And I put your pictures over there, I know how messy you get when you eat."

"I'm not messy," Jess replies indignantly but she really does appreciate Nick's thoughtfulness. "You're being too nice to me, Miller. What have you broken this time?"

Nick looks on in mock hurt and Jess smirks as she begins to eat the food which, though she'll never tell Nick, is actually pretty good. "I'm a nice guy, Jess" Nick shrugs his shoulders with a grin, "It's not _that_ hard to believe."

Jess shakes her head because her mouth is too full for her to tell him he's not always nice to her and today is just an exception. She finishes the rest of the food in silence whilst Nick lies on his floor, staring up at the ceiling.

The time passes by and the two of them sit and talk, about nothing in particular, until Winston and Schmidt return home, both relieved to find Nick and Jess in Jess' room, no tears apparent. Cece comes over a little later and there's an awkward encounter with Schmidt before she excuses herself and shuts herself in Jess' room.

"So what's up with Jess?" Nick asks when Cece emerges an hour or so later.

"She didn't tell you?" Cece looks surprised as Nick shrugs and it doesn't occur to Nick until much later than she directed her question directly to Nick, despite Winston and Schmidt being there too. "Mr Patterson passed away."

"Mr Patterson," Winston repeats slowly, looking from Schmidt to Nick who both look as bemused as the other. "And he's..?"

"He works with Jess at the school," Cece explains, a tired smile on her face. "I think he was a bit like an uncle for her so you three – " Cece waggles her finger at each of the boys in turn, " – be on your best behaviour and just don't upset her anymore, okay?"

Nick's not sure if he's being paranoid but he's certain Cece directed that at him as well. "Are you leaving?" he asks Cece and she nods, looking visibly exhausted.

"She's in bed and I've got an early shoot. She knows I'm only a phone call away though." She gets together all her things and since Schmidt hovers around nervously, Nick acts as the gentleman and walks Cece the mere seven steps to the door. "I mean it," she turns to face Nick as she reaches the handle. "Look after her Nick, this week more than ever."

Nick knows that this time it is directed at him; he's just not entirely sure _why_. But he promises he will and for once Nick keeps his word. He finds out from Cece the day of the funeral and when the day arrives, he's up extra early all dressed in his suit ready to accompany Jess, even though she hasn't asked him to. She doesn't tell him in so many words, but she's never been more thankful to have Nick as a friend. She hugs him and hopes he understands what she's trying to say. He even rings in sick for her for the rest of the week and Winston complains that Nick's never this nice to him when he's sad.

It takes Jess a little over a week to get back to her normal self and it's a welcome return when she does. But she'll never forget how thoughtful Nick's been and as she relays it all to Cece, both girls agree they didn't think Nick had it in him.

And if Nick's perfectly honest, he didn't think he did either.


End file.
